Katia Dreams of Space-Scrapers

The girl next to me speaks softly timidly her words unsure

As she asks if she can practice her English on me the first

American she has ever met she recites like a perfect student

The words lilting and accented with strange syllables when she

Speaks to her stoic parents her voice becomes its natural state

Flows from her tongue and lips like a reluctant diver who hesitates

Before the jump but then feels unimaginable euphoria as she falls

 

When I tell her I live in New York City her hand

Flies to her heart and she sighs simply says Dream

Her breath smells of butter and fats a mouth

That has never tasted the bitterness of cigarettes

The smell of someone who is well fed and warm

She takes my right hand and inspects for a ring

She tells me she is an atheist and has told no one

She tells me she wants to go to New York to see

The space-scrapers

I do not correct her

pexels-photo-477500

 

*This poem was published in Minetta Review in 2016.

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One thought on “Katia Dreams of Space-Scrapers

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